Shattered Exile

FIVE Impression

FIVE

Impression

It felt good to get out of hab one-seven-one, away from the crime scene of his own making. With the inevitable break of dawn drawing ever closer, the reassuring darkness outside began to recede, as daylight crept over the obscured horizon. The stars above were barely visible now, reaffirming the inevitable: that time was against him. He knew exactly what needed to be done, and he needed to do it fast. Using the NGDF’s ghost data – designed to monitor the global movement of weapons – in conjunction with Trix’s own predictive heuristics, they were able to locate a nearby Peacekeeper patrol. According to Trix, the patrol was a two-person team operating only a few structures away, not far from the residential habs. Although the laggy ghost data was not entirely accurate, it was all they had. Prior to leaving D-zero-zero-three, he had hurriedly memorised the route to the patrol, in addition to its predicted trajectory. Having unwittingly played his part in Trix’s macabre plan to execute project Phoenix, the deceased Mr L. Cameron’s hacked bio-key vitals now reported to be stable. Coupled with Trix’s spoofed remote access to the Infonet, the unethical hacker now seemed largely disinterested in his movements. Trix was now consumed with the need to gain access to the source code used to develop the bio-key tracking software, subsequently abused by the government and its Peacekeeper enforcers. Trix’s intricately conceived plan relied on gaining access to the Infonet by leveraging their victim’s high-level clearance, who in another life had worked as a private contractor for the government, developing the software used to locate the members of the Shadow class.

With so little time now remaining before dawn, he had no choice but to forgo stealth in favour of speed. His heart thumped in his chest as he ran down the wide streets of the metropolis at breakneck speed. He tried hard not to think about the prospect of being detected as he sprinted past the metropolis’ pristine white and glass buildings. Upon reaching his destination, he crouched at a street junction, peering gingerly around the corner of a tall white building. To his surprise, the patrol he sought was nowhere in sight. In his haste, he had seemingly gained more ground on his target than originally anticipated. Breaking cover, he turned right at the junction and ran down the adjacent street until he approached the first of several parked vehicles. Keeping low, he moved to the rear of the first vehicle, offering it a cursory glance to ensure that it was in fact empty. Pressing on once more, he passed the second and third vehicles, inspecting both for occupants as he moved swiftly alongside them. Before he could approach the fourth, he suddenly froze at the sound of faint whistling. Turning to inspect the noise, he noticed a narrow alley between two of the seemingly endless columned buildings flanking the street. He approached quietly with caution, following the noise, which grew louder with each closing step.

Peering into the gloom, his keen eyes spotted a single Peacekeeper, whistling jovially whilst pissing against the left wall of the alley. The lone law enforcement officer had his back towards him, and was seemingly unaware of his presence. Pressing his back against the opposite wall, he moved swiftly along the alley towards the unsuspecting officer. Unlike the rest of the inner core, very little of the metropolis’ ubiquitous light penetrated the dark passage. However, despite the welcoming embrace of the shadows, his heart pounded ferociously in his chest, reminding him of the ever-present danger of being caught. As he neared his target, he unexpectedly began to panic as the realisation of the task at hand suddenly dawned on him. Although he had been in plenty of scuffles in his time spent bouncing between children’s homes, as well as during his life on the streets, he was a brawler, and certainly not a professionally trained combatant. Playing out the scenario in his mind, he quickly realised that he did not possess the knowledge, or skill, necessary to disable the Peacekeeper quietly. Since he could not account for the location of the Peacekeeper’s absent partner, logic dictated that it was unwise to cause any kind of commotion. Perhaps there was another way of acquiring the item he needed, he mused, wondering if in fact retreat was now the better option. Either way, his options were about to change, as the sound of splattering urine ceased abruptly.

‘Rayna, can you hear me?’

‘s**t!’ he cursed aloud, turning towards the entrance to the alley.

There was no one there. He expected to see the other Peacekeeper standing at the end of the alley, boxing him in, and yet there was nothing – aside from the silent gloom. He turned his attention back to the first Peacekeeper. The armoured law enforcement officer had not moved, and appeared to be paralyzed, as though frozen in time.

‘Rayna! Concentrate on my voice.’

‘Who’s there?’

‘Rayna, it is me, Alarielle.’

‘What is this?’ he said, turning his head left and right in confusion. ‘Who is Rayna?!’

‘That is your name. Your mind is clouded – you are not thinking clearly.’

‘Show yourself!’

‘I cannot, for I am also you.’

‘This makes no sense!’

‘Let me help you. You need to let go of this endless torment consuming your mind.’

‘If you truly want to help, show me how to disable the Peacekeeper quietly, and without killing them? Perhaps then I shall listen to what you have to say.’

‘Very well. Slide your left arm around the front of their neck.’

‘Ah, you intend for me to induce syncope?’

‘I do not know what that is – you will be executing a rear naked choke. In any case, please do as I ask.’

Not wanting to keep his mysterious benefactor waiting, he did as instructed. He slid his arm around the thick neck of the motionless Peacekeeper, applying pressure against the officer’s throat.

‘Not yet. First, grab your upper right arm. Next, place your right hand behind their head.’

Again, he did as requested, following the voice’s instructions to the letter.

‘Good. Now apply pressure by bringing your left elbow inward.’

Time suddenly resumed once more, and he could feel the startled officer clawing desperately at his left arm, trying in vain to break his chokehold. He did exactly as the voice had instructed, pulling his left elbow inward, thus performing a blood choke on his victim. Much to his astonishment, the technique was effortless, as though he had rehearsed it many times before – though in practice, it was the first time he had ever attempted such a move. Throughout the hold, he felt a curious sensation, a sense of familiarity, as though invisible hands were guiding his actions. The voice – which called itself Alarielle – had somehow left an impression in his mind, seeded deep enough that his benefactor’s words had evolved into something akin to natural instinct. The Peacekeeper thrashed their arms wildly, and started kicking their legs defiantly as he lowered his opponent quietly to the ground. The move was effective; in little over ten seconds, the Peacekeeper was slumped before him, rendered unconscious.

He rolled the Peacekeeper’s prone body over and hurriedly attempted to unfasten a pack strapped to their back. The rear pack refused to let go, prompting him to tug at it aggressively until finally his prize came free. The body of the Peacekeeper heaved suddenly, and the downed officer began to cough hoarsely as they started to come round. He threw the pack across his shoulder and immediately got up and ran back along the alley towards the parked vehicles. Breaking into a sprint, he tore down the starkly lit street until he arrived back at the junction, where he turned left, retracing his route back to D-zero-zero-three.

When eventually he made it back to hab one-seven-one, he collapsed into a high-backed chair in the main living space. His muscles were tense, and he struggled to calm the continued thumping in his chest. On reflection, tearing around the metropolis had been irresponsible, if not downright stupid. He was certainly no adrenaline junkie, although part of him had enjoyed the rush of sailing so close to the wind. Breathing deeply, he relaxed into the surprisingly comfortable chair, contemplating his uncharacteristically rash course of action. Perhaps, subconsciously, he had wanted to be caught, he wondered, as light from the morning sun crept into the room. Regardless of the circumstances, he had taken a life. Surely, then, he deserved to be caught and punished accordingly.

‘That was not your fault.’

Particles of dust floating in the air, illuminated by the caress of the morning sun, suddenly became fixed in place, and the flicker of light at the far end of the room’s adjoining corridor – emanating from the bedroom’s holographic access panel –abruptly ceased. He felt the same odd sensation when first he had heard Alarielle’s voice, as though time had suddenly stopped, and the world around him ceased marching forwards.

‘What is this? What are you doing?’

‘We are communicating.’

‘This isn’t simply communication, you are doing something to me. I don’t understand how, but you are changing me – I can feel it!’

‘Does it matter?’

‘It matters to me. I did not consent to this!’

‘So, you want this regret? This debilitating guilt which is feeding on your mind?’

‘That guilt is mine, and I alone deserve it. You have no right to take it away from me.’

‘That is not the Rayna I know talking. That is the darkness influencing your subconscious thoughts, locking you away inside this place of eternal torment.’

‘My name is Callum!’

‘It was, yes, but you were released from that shackle.’

‘Get out!’ he said angrily. ‘You have no right violating my mind like this!’

‘You have a duty to The Blades, to Freylar, and to me.’

‘Whatever it is you are doing, stop it now!’

‘I am sharing my experiences with you; only then will you understand.’

‘I killed an unarmed man – an elderly gentleman at that – in cold blood. There is no absolving the fact’

‘You did not do so willingly; you were coerced. During my time with the Order, prior to our merging, there were many times when I released the soul of another. In battle, such action is inevitable, but it is not the action itself that defines us – it is the reason for the action.’

‘There is no justification for murder!’

‘These emotions you are feeling are new to you. The darkness inside of you feeds on them, sating its ravenous appetite, and in doing so traps you in this place for its own amusement. I am now sharing with you my own experiences of release, and in doing so you will learn to accept its necessity in times of strife and conflict.’

‘No wait, I do not ask for...’

She loitered awkwardly by the door to Nathaniel’s tree, wondering how long to wait before knocking again. The surrounding forest was unusually quiet. Despite Mirielle objecting to her impromptu curfew, she had done little to inform the Freylarkai of their queen’s differing point of view. In addition, with Riknar’s release now common knowledge, few wanted to venture far from their homes, despite their queen’s reassurances that Marcus would deal with the potential threat. She was about to knock once more, when the door to Nathaniel’s tree opened abruptly.

‘I apologise for keeping you waiting Kirika, please, do come in.’

It was clear to her that Nathaniel’s tardy appearance was a result of a hurried attempt to make himself look more presentable, which had, sadly, failed. His dishevelled appearance implied that he had endured a rough night, with very little sleep as a result – if any at all.

‘You look tired Nathaniel.’ she said, stepping over the threshold into the downstairs living space.

‘I feel tired.’

‘Has Rayna’s condition changed at all?’

‘No. Lothnar is with her. He has been at her side all night, as have I.’

‘What does Lothnar say?’

‘Nothing – that is exactly what has me worried! His mind has been connected to Rayna’s throughout the night, yet Lothnar has said nothing. It is as if he too has succumbed to Rayna’s catatonia.’

Before she could respond to Nathaniel’s concerns, there was a loud thump against the ceiling, followed by the muffled sounds of cursing. They glanced at one another for a brief moment, then quickly ran upstairs to Rayna’s room. Lying on the floor, flat on his back, was Lothnar. The downed Paladin banged his right fist against the wooden floor, clearly angry and frustrated.

‘What has happened? Please, tell me!’ asked Nathaniel, concerned by the sudden turn of events.

‘I have lost my connection!’ replied Lothnar, who accepted Nathaniel’s hand to assist him in regaining his feet.

‘You must try again – I cannot lose them Lothnar!’ implored Nathaniel, desperate for the master telepath to redouble his efforts.

‘It is up to Alarielle now.’

‘What do you mean?’ she asked, puzzled by Lothnar’s choice of words.

‘Together, we were able to establish contact with Rayna’s mind. The parasite is feeding off of her darkest emotions, forcing her subconscious to relive troubled memories so that it can savour them.’

‘Then how do we stop it?’ demanded Nathaniel, whose face was awash with concern.

‘We do not. Only your daughter can do that now. I believe that Alarielle remains in contact with Rayna’s mind, and is able to manipulate it on a subconscious level. If your daughter is successful, she will be the one to wake Rayna from her nightmare stupor.’

‘I see.’ replied Nathaniel, thoughtfully. ‘For a while, I thought that perhaps I had lost you all.’

‘Nathaniel, what do you mean?’

‘Lothnar, look outside – dawn approaches. You have been in there most of the night.’

‘That is not possible!’

‘The sun disagrees with you. See for yourself.’

Lothnar strode towards the room’s only window, allowing the weak morning light to spill across his tired visage. He paused for a moment, appearing to consider everything that had recently transpired. Lothnar then turned towards them with a preoccupied stare.

‘This is fascinating.’

‘What is?’ she asked, eager to understand the Paladin’s cause for confusion.

‘Events seem to be passing at a slower pace in Rayna’s mind, presumably due to the parasite’s influence. But regardless of Rayna’s curious mental state, Alarielle has found a way to communicate with her at a more rapid pace, within her subconscious.’

‘So this thing is slowing down Rayna’s subconscious thought processes, whilst Alarielle is actively speeding them back up?’

‘I do not understand.’ replied Nathaniel, who seemed to be growing agitated. ‘Does this aid Rayna’s recovery in any way?’

‘I am uncertain.’ replied Lothnar, frankly, ‘A mental duel is being waged inside Rayna’s head. Her mind has become the battlefield upon which your daughter and the parasite currently fight one another.’

‘There must be something more we can do? I refuse to sit by and wait for my daughter and that thing to tear Rayna’s mind apart whilst battling for supremacy.’

‘Nathaniel, there is nothing more we can do for Rayna right now. Lothnar has set Alarielle’s mind to purpose, and has since been cast out. Neither you nor I have the ability to further aid Rayna at this stage.’

‘Kirika, can you not at least scry the outcome, to end this torment of mine?’

‘Nathaniel, Rayna’s future is unclear. Your daughter’s body has become a vessel for multiple souls, albeit with a single commander – currently under siege – at its helm. Rayna’s future actions are highly uncertain. Scriers, myself included, can only glimpse fragments of her destiny. I cannot end your renewed emotional torture.’

Nathaniel sighed heavily as he considered her words. The pain etched on his face was clear to see. She wished dearly that she could do more to help the tortured Freylarkin, who had become a father figure to her over the many passes since her induction into The Blades.

‘I realise how personal this is to you Nathaniel, but do not regress back to that broken Freylarkin I found slumped upon the floor in The Cave of Wellbeing in the wake of your daughter’s initial release. You know your daughter far better than I, but I know this much: Alarielle is an extremely capable Freylarkin. Trust in her.’

A single tear rolled down her cheek as the morning sun broke cover over the eastern horizon, its weak wintery light revealing the presence of her former home. Filled with conflicting emotions, she stared down towards the heart of the vale – home to the forest dwelling Freylarkai – whilst fighting back the tears welling along the bottom of her eyes. She no longer recalled how many passes had come and gone during her time spent scratching out a living in the inhospitable borderlands. Surviving in the Narlakai borderlands was a constant battle, and thoughts of home had quickly abandoned her when practical issues, such as the need to eat and drink, occupied her waking thoughts. Yet despite the hardships of her exile, and the challenges it posed, thoughts of her sister were never far away. She missed seeing Kirika, more than she had ever thought possible, and now, the prospect of reconnecting with her sister distracted her. She lingered at the top of the Eternal Falls, watching silently as the shadows slowly retreated across the vale. As the morning mist slowly began to clear, her gaze drifted idly towards the Tri-Spires – the heart of Mirielle’s rule, and now her sister’s home. Unable to contain her disgust, she offered the unnatural structure a venomous sneer, whilst rubbing the fusion of flesh and metal that joined her ornate bronze claw to the stump of her left wrist. Whilst focusing intently on Mirielle’s marvellous construction, dark thoughts began to take shape in her mind: she imagined her claw clutched tightly around the neck of Freylar’s queen, ready and eager to serve its own brand of retribution in response to her unjust exile. The hatred inside her burned with desire; with a single squeeze of her claw, Freylar would be ushered into a new era of leadership, one that would likely reverse her current sentence. Fanciful thoughts, she mused, before breaking suddenly from her reverie as the sound of the falls drew her back to the cold reality of her miserable existence.

After finally taking the decision to abandon Krashnar’s abhorrent abode deep in the borderlands, the way ahead had – for a time at least – seemed clearer to her, but now, reality started to cloud her judgement. Realistically, the chance of reaching Kirika unnoticed, way up in the Tri-Spires, even with her ability to scry, was slim. Therefore, she had decided to throw her lot in with her sister’s closest confidant, Nathaniel, who lived a modest life in the heart of the vale, amongst the forest dwellers. The Teacher had a chequered history, and it was her hope that Nathaniel would at least hear her out, potentially brokering a discreet meeting with her sister. However, now that the vale was within physical sight, doubt started to gnaw at her. Unable – thus far at least – to muster the courage necessary to act upon her new-found conviction, she loitered by the edge of the falls, attempting to scry the likely outcome of her intent. Once more, the way forward was unclear to her, in much the same vein as when she had attempted to scry the conclusion of hers and Lileah’s failed invasion of Freylar. Could it be that she was destined to cross paths with The Guardian for a second time, she considered, pensively. For who else had the ability to confound her second sight? As she battled with her growing insecurities, the sun slowly rose higher in the sky, eventually signalling the arrival of noon. Her stomach growled, reminding her of the need to eat, though a cursory glance at Krashnar’s spoiled wares quickly silenced any further bodily grumbles. Turning her attention back to the vale, she noticed something curious at the edge of her view: her keen vision sighted movement within the majestic pool below, which formed the base of the Eternal Falls. Focusing her attention on the disturbance, she saw a fully clothed Freylarkin swimming slowly towards the edge of the pool. The unidentified male reached the far edge of the pool, dragging his sodden body from the crystal-clear water. After unsheathing a long, peculiarly shaped blade from his back, laying it neatly on the ground, the Freylarkin carefully started to remove his clothing. She watched with interest as the Freylarkin wrung the cold water from his soaking wet clothes and emptied his boots. Curious to learn more about the interloper – in particular the means of his sudden unorthodox arrival – she climbed down to the base of the falls and formally announced her presence, knowing full well that the Freylarkin would likely see her descend from the falls’ summit. After reaching the base of the falls, she regained her composure and walked calmly towards the Freylarkin, who had since re-dressed himself from the waist down. Judging by the well-defined musculature of the Freylarkin’s arms and torso, in addition to the large curious weapon that lay by his feet, she supposed that the Freylarkin was a warrior of sorts – though he was clearly not a member of The Blades.

‘Afternoon to you.’ she said, approaching to within five paces. ‘Do you require assistance?’

‘Warmest greetings to you, and thank you for the kind offer, however, I believe that I am OK.’

The warrior seemed unperturbed by her presence, and paid very little attention to her left hand. He seemed to have no intention of reaching for his weapon, but continued to wring the last of the water from his shirt.

‘May I ask how it is that you suddenly arrived here?’ she asked, politely.

‘I am afraid that I cannot say, however, I am looking for a Freylarkin called Rayna, whom some might refer to as The Guardian. Apparently, she lives in these parts, along with another by the name of Nathaniel – often called The Teacher. Perhaps you could help me find them?’

Her thoughts frantically jostled for position inside her head upon hearing the mysterious Freylarkin’s new information. This unexpected news complicated matters. She knew very little about the entity now inhabiting Alarielle’s body. Her only knowledge of The Guardian came from their brief encounter during the conflict at Scrier’s Post, along with second-hand scraps of information tossed to her by Krashnar. It was impossible to know how The Guardian would react to her arrival, and whether the chance of a second encounter would have any bearing on her already challenging discussions with Nathaniel. This increased risk threatened to jeopardize everything. She paused for a brief moment whilst considering the facts available to her. Logic demanded that she make a hasty retreat, back to the borderlands, yet there remained nothing for her there. Besides, she had come too far to turn back now, and the presence of another would help to deflect attention away from her own – likely unwanted – presence in Freylar.

‘Yes of course. Follow me.’